


Rust in Piece

by pyrrhum



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Cass is a new student AU, F/F, M/M, September Institute AU, adding tags as I go, essentially the cass/mako university au, plus some, post-Golden War different timeline AU, things are....happier
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2019-03-22 01:19:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13753227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pyrrhum/pseuds/pyrrhum
Summary: A universe where the Golden War ends in doused compromise a decade or so earlier, and Cassander Timaeus Berenice ends up being the new kid at the September Institute.Mako Trig doesn't know what he's gotten himself into, but he'll take it if it means getting to spend time with Cass.Aria joins in for the thrill of the fight, and maybe getting a girlfriend in the process.And AuDy? They're just the mechanic.or, the September Institute AU that was joked about in an episode, once, and how The Chime always manages to find trouble





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> the underscore man jokes about there "definitely being an au where theyre all september institute students" and ive done it, ive written the au 
> 
> title from I'll Rust With You by steam powered giraffe

_ reminiscing in retrograde  
will fuel out pointless escapades _

...

For all their life—on Apostalos, on Counterweight, on Apotine, wherever they seemed to end up—Cassander Timaeus Berenice had never once been the _new kid_.

Years of being in the spotlight, whether directly or in concurrence with a royal family member, had meant that Apostolisians often knew where Cassander was the moment they were there. This had long been a fact of Euanthe’s life growing up, then Sokrates’, then Cassander’s. And with Apostalos and House Pelagios seemingly to make galactic news every rotation, this reality was not subject to change anytime soon.

And then, they land on September.

Begrudgingly, Cass admits they could see the appeal of this planet. A constant state of something like the EarthHome season of autumn, with a cooling climate and sun-kissed atmosphere. Picturesque, like something projected onto a screen. The leaves on the trees even seemed to be genetically modified to make them a beautiful yellow and red. It was all very striking; at least, from the seat in the royal Apostolisian ship Cass is currently traveling in, it was. They know those trees, genetically modified or not, were not native to September, originally. Before it was September, owned by OriChon, before it was Service II, owned by the Diaspora.

A planet of sandstone and Apostolisian heritage, thinly veiled beneath the Mesh.

The ship begins its final descent, from low in the atmosphere to begin its landing, towards a docking bay at the top of a wide building. In their seat, Cass grips at the armrest, despite the smooth piloting. They would never admit they were nervous about this, especially not in front of their parents, one of whom had joined them for the trip, currently sitting next to them. Of course, they had to be joined by the Apokine for this journey.

The thin hum of engines slide easily into silence. A perfect landing. Then the hiss of the doors opening.

Their parent looks to them, face not betraying any emotion, other than displaying a calm collectedness. Almost robotic. Perfectly neutral. The face of someone who spent most of their time in the public eye. “What do you think of the planet?” they ask.

Cass shrugs. “Very pretty, I suppose. Pleasing to the eye.”

“Mmm.” Neither an agreement or disagreement. The Apokine looks past Cass and through the window, where there is a view of a nearby forest. Cass wonders what they could be thinking about. In this moment, the two say nothing between them. Then, their eyes turn back to Cass. “Are you ready, Cassander?” they ask, and for a moment there is sympathy and caring in their eyes. A parent more than a politician.

With a slight grimace, Cass nods.

Ready to start their first day of school. 

 

It isn’t like Cass had never gone to school.

In a technical sense, they hadn’t. They had never set foot in a school building that they simultaneously attended. To avoid the overwhelming public eye of the star sector, the Pelagios children were privately tutored in all important subjects, and then some. Math, science, history, reading, writing, classical music, sword-fighting, general combat, engineering, the list went on and on.

Still, sitting in Superintendent Twelfth’s office, Cass feels very, _very_ alien. And not just because Twelfth is a human.

“Apokine,” the superintendent says, sitting behind a wooden desk, using it as a buffer between him and the two Apostolisians. “I really cannot express my pleasure in your visiting us personally. Truly, a monumental juncture between OriChon, the Diaspora, and Apostalos…”

“Agreed,” the Apokine replies. The same smooth tone used for negotiations, Cass notes, the two talk as if Cass is not there. They are a pawn in their parent’s game now, precious cargo to be bargained over and shipped to the highest bidder. Cass wonderes what OriChon paid to gain their attendance to the September Institute. Or perhaps, what the Apokine had paid.

It was always hard to tell whether anyone truly won the Golden War. And if anyone did, it certainly wasn’t Apostalos.

“Cassander will receive nothing shy of the best education possible in the Golden Branch, I can assure you of that,” Twelfth continues. “A meeting of Apostollisian, OriChon, and Diasporan technologies and ideals. Nowhere better to continue the path towards diplomacy through the younger generation, post-war, yes?”

“I am sure you have only the best and brightest here,” Apokine says.

“Then Cassander should fit right in.” Twelfth smiles.

Cass holds in a laugh, just barely, trying their best to remain neutral. What kind of a response was that?

“They will be placed in House White Star, used for training and teaching diplomatic ways. A school of foreign service.” Twelfth begins to stand, with the Apokine following the gesture, and Cass instinctively mirroring their parent. “They will be able to take many classes outside of the diplomatic realm, of course. Interactions and collaboration between students in different fields is very important to us here. Now, if you will follow me, I can show you…”

“Actually, I’m afraid I must depart,” the Apokine interrupts. Although they cut Twelfth off mid-sentence, they still sounded gracious and regal. A skill Cass should probably start to learn, considering they always seemed to sound antsy and short-tempered. “I trust my child will be in good hands despite my absence, Superintendent.”

The three of them stand at the door—well, four, actually. The Apokine never traveled without a personal guard, and a meeting about their youngest being shipped off to boarding school seemed to be no exception. Their parent’s trusted personal security guard, an Apostolisian taller than all three of them, stood stoic at the door, blocking any unwanted entry or exit.

“You have nothing to fear, Apokine,” Superintendent Twelfth says with an easy smile. “I am sad to see you go so soon, but understand you must have more…pressing engagements, than to stay and help move the scion into their dormitory.”

Cass fights the urge to purse their lips. More pressing engagements, more important than their youngest remaining on a foreign planet in old enemy territory, forcefully taken from them once before. Any interactions between factions in the Golden Branch were like a doused flame: no longer burning, but with some remaining embers.

“I am glad we share the same light. Until we meet again, Superintendent.” The Apokine gives Twelfth nothing more than a small bow of the head, tilted towards him. Then, they turn to Cass. “We will speak soon, Cassander.” And they hold out a hand.

Cass shakes it, feeling a hidden intimacy behind the gesture. The two of them, parent and child, squeeze each other’s hands, a final goodbye, before letting both hands drop. In all their usual pomp and glory, the Apokine exists with a dramatic turn of their cape, personal guard tailing behind them. Twelfth stands there with Cassander for another moment, a look of important on their face. Like someone who knows their status over everyone else.

“Come, Cassander. I will walk you to your dorm,” Twelfth says suddenly, and without waiting for Cass’ response, begins a swift pace down the hall.

 

Thank the gods Cass didn’t have a roommate. Their relief is partially attributed to the fact that they had never shared a room with anyone in their life; but what they considered to be much more important, they had no idea how to even begin to talk to people here, let alone live with someone new. At least without a roommate, they had peace and quiet to retreat to when they needed it.

All of Cass’ stuff had been moved into the compact room while they had been in the meeting between Superintendent Twelfth and the Apokine, but none of it had been unpacked for them. A few boxes were piled on top of themselves, lined against the sparse walls. There was a single bed, just a mattress and frame, no sheets or pillows.

Of course, those were in one of the boxes.

Cass isn’t even sure which box. They hadn’t packed any of their own things when they were told they were moving to the September Institute.

They close the door behind them, and stand in the silence of their new room for a moment, taking it all in. Here they were; Cassander Timaeus Berenice, youngest scion of House Pelagios, new student at the September Institute, of House White Star, in their fucking dorm room. Of all the twists and turns that a life as the royalty of Apostalos had thrown at them, they had never expected to end up _here_.

At least it was—

_CRASH_

_—_ quiet.

There is a shout down the hall, some sort of curse that was either in a foreign tongue or something Cass had never heard before, then light footsteps as someone starts running. And by the sound of it, getting closer and closer to Cass’ room. Sound carried easily, it seemed.

_Please, not here_ , they think, _please don’t come here…_

_KNOCK-KNOCK_

“Hello?” a feminine voice calls through the door. “I just saw you move in, new kid. I know you’re in here!”

Cass grits their teeth, trying to stomp down their frustration, and opens the door. “Yes?”

“Oh!” The girl gives him a quick once-over. “You’re Apostolisian.”

“And you’re Keshian,” Cass replies with a slight monotone. This much is obvious to them; the girl was wearing multiple layers of fabric, at least three different skirts, all of radically different colors, and a thin veil. Fashion native to Kesh was rare to see but easily recognizable.

The girl gives them a smile that seems to surprise her, and sticks out her hand. “I’m Maxine Ming, from the Principality of Kesh. And you’re…?”

Cass looks down at Maxine’s outstretched hand, swallows their pride, and shakes it. “Cassander TImaeus Berenice. From House Pelagios.”

“Of course.” Maxine looks like the name rings a bell. “I thought you looked familiar, but we don’t see any Apostolisians here in person, nowadays. Just on screen. People always tell me I look different in person, too.”

Cass just blinks, taken aback by the casualty of the conversation between the two of them. Maxine seemed to hold little regard to their scion status, let alone her own royalty. Cass briefly wonders if the rest of the September Institute will be like this.

“But I didn’t come here to bug you!” she quickly continues. “My cranium rat got out, have you seen him?”

“Your…your what?”

“My cranium rat? His name is Binks, he’s always escaping. I thought maybe he ran in here.”

This time, Cass is the one who involuntarily smiles. “Sorry, but I have no idea what in gods’ names you are talking about.”

Maxine shrugs. “You would’ve noticed him if you sawhi, really. Big rat with an open brain on its head? Emits a sort of light? You’ll see him, eventually. I live right down the hall, and he loves other people. Just keep an eye out, okay?”

“I thought we weren’t allowed to have pets?”

Maxine winks. “That’s why we gotta find him, new kid.”

“We?” Cass echoes.

She holds out a hand again. “Don’t wanna be stuck in your stuffy dorm all day, do you?” Her voice holds a hopeful quality to it.

Cass looks down at her hand, thinks of the events that led up to the youngest scion of House Pelagios ending up as a student at the September Institute, on a planet lost by their people twice over, and laughs. This is ridiculous, they decide. Everything about this is so fucking ridiculous.

They take her hand. “Binks, you said his name was?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> big au planned with my big au hands, or me promising this will be an action-packed fic
> 
> google image cranium rats to see my favorite lil d&d monster


	2. Chapter 2

“What do you think is on the menu for today?” Mako asks loudly, making sure Lazer Ted could still hear him from a few feet away. “I hope its that chicken substitute from a few days ago, that stuff was de-licious.”

“True,” Lazer Ted replies, looking up at the menu, trying to read it through his sunglasses. “I think its squid though.”

“Squid?!”

“Yeah, says right here. Apostolisian styled pasta with ink sauce. So, squid.”

Mako gapes at his friend. “How do you know this?”

Ted shrugs. “I’m cultured. Don’t look so surprised, Mako.” And then he walks farther into the September Institute dining hall, with Mako scampering in after him.

A few minutes later, the two of them stand in the pasta line, plates in hand. “Why do you think they’re serving Apostolisian food?” Mako asks. “is it some sort of galaxy-culture week?”

“I dun’o. Maybe the chefs were feelin’ creative.”

“Or maybe something happened with Apostalos? You check the news lately, Ted?”

Ted scoffs. “Man, you know I don’t keep up with current events. I’m too focused on what’s in front of me, not what’s giga-squares away.”

When the chef heaps the squid pasta onto Mako’s plate, some of the deep purple ink splashes onto his shirt. Luckily, it was a weekend, therefore no class, therefore no required uniforms, so the shirt was plastic. A new business Lazer Ted was trying out: stain-free shirts. The plastic shirt Mako is currently brandishing is an opaque pink, to match his hair. He also thought it complemented his skin tone quite nicely.

The September Institute was a prestigious school, but it was still a school nonetheless, so Mako and Ted make a beeline for their usual spots in the dining hall before any stragglers could claim it. Already sitting there was Aria Joie, House Blue World, famous pop star, and best friend to Mako Trig. She, too, had a plate of the weird seafood spaghetti, and did not seem to be enjoying it too much, which gives Mako very little hope of enjoying it himself.

“Hey, Aria!” Mako greets, kicking a chair out and sitting across from her.

“Mako! Ted!”

“What’s cookin’, good-lookin’?” Ted greets, sitting next to Mako. “How you feel about this culinary cuisine?”

Aria purses her lips, pushing the food around her plate a little. “I mean, it’s…fine, I guess.” Then she puts down her utensil. “Maybe I’ll just rehydrate some chicken later.”

“Ooh, I’ll join you for that!” Mako replies enthusiastically. “I was just talking about the chicken substitute from last week, maybe we can make a nice salad or—”

“Um, did I invite you?” Aria asks, raising a perfectly done eyebrow.

“But—! But…”

Aria giggles, expression smoothing into a grin. “I’m just kidding, Mako.”

As Aria begins talking about her latest song-writing endeavors and newest places to find inspiration, something catches Mako’s eye from his peripherals. Someone tall sulking their way through the dining hall, dressed way too formally for the fucking _September Institute_ , which was a feat in itself, considering their required uniform during class days. A tightly buttoned military-like suit, navy in color, with little contrast to their own blue skin. But not Mako colored blue—not the light, periwinkle that was his bulletproof skin now—but a darker, deep sea color. In fact, the only part of them that didn’t seem to be blue was their hair, which was brown, short and clean cut around their ears.

Aria notices Mako’s distraction from her conversation, and falls silent, following his gaze. Then, she whistles under her breath. “That must be the new kid.”

Mako’s attention snaps back to Aria. “New kid?”

“Yeah, Maritime told me House White Star was getting a new student, a transfer. Which is weird, right? We _never_ get transfers here.”

He shrugs in response, going back to twirling the inky spaghetti around his fork. Aria wasn’t exactly _wrong_ ; transferring into the September Institute, especially at such an older, academic age, was extremely rare, almost unheard of.

“Aw, look, they’re sitting alone,” Aria says with a slight pout. When Mako looks up, sure enough, New Kid was sitting alone at a table nearby, with only their plate of squid pasta. “We should go sit with them! Introduce ourselves!”

“I don’t think—Aria!” His objection is too late, because Aria had grabbed her plate as soon as her sentence finished and swept her bag over her should in one fluid motion, and was then walking confidently towards New Kid’s empty table. Mako sputters, looking to Lazer Ted for guidance and camaraderie, only to find the traitor also getting up and following Aria to the other table.

Motherfucker.

Reluctantly, Mako grabs his own plate and follows his two friends to the new table, gearing himself up to introduce himself to the new kid with the blue skin.

Of course, when he gets there, Aria was already stealing any proverbial spotlight to be had.

“You’re Aria Joie,” New Kid says, sounding a little baffled.

Aria laughs, a twinkling sound, tucking some hair behind her ear. “I am. What’s your name?”

“Cassander,” the new kid answers, as Mako takes a spot next to Aria. Lazer Ted had already sat himself on Cassander’s other side, and was disinterestedly scrolling through news on a materialized piece of Mesh in front of him. “But, uh…people usually just call me Cass.”

“So, Cass, where’re you from?” Mako asks.

Cass gives him a startled look. “And who are _you_?”

“Mako Trig, and that’s Lazer Ted.” Mako points a fork in the direction of said Lazy Ted. “I like the blue skin, it’s trendy. How’d you get it?”

“I was, uh, born with…” Cass looks taken aback by the bombardment of questions, especially in the presence of Aria Joie. “Sorry, do you know them?” They point the question at Aria.

She nods enthusiastically. “Yeah! Mako’s my best friend.”

“And Ted?”

“ _Lazer_ Ted,” Ted corrects them, not looking up from the spot in the air he has materialized the Mesh. “It’s Lazer Ted, or LazyT, or Wavy Lazy, or…”

“He’s Mako’s friend,” Aria says with a shrug. “Where are you from, Cass?”

“Apostalos,” Ted answers, still not looking up.

Mako’s mouth falls open, and Aria gives a reactionary, “ _What_?”

“Cassander Timaeus Berenice,” he continues, still not looking away from the materialized Mesh, like what he’s saying is _no big deal_ , “of House Pelagios, third child of the Apokine.”

Cass visibly tightens their grip on the utensil, seeming to tense up, but not denying what Ted is saying _at all_. Holy shit, Mako thinks, Apostalos? A royal Apostolisian? He had never seen an Apostolisian in person, let alone sat at a meal with them, let alone interacted with royalty before, let alone—

“Why is your pasta so bad?” Mako blurts.

And Cass, bless their heart, looks _personally offended_. “It’s not supposed to be this soggy,” they answer stiffly, but seem to recover themselves. “They clearly cooked it for too long, and hoped the ink sauce would cover it up. It doesn’t, obviously. Just makes it mushier, really. I could make it better.”

“We’re probably gonna cook something up in Aria’s room later, you wanna come?” Mako asks, having decided to completely give up on the—apparently—poor excuse for Apostolisian cuisine. And also apparently having decided to try and befriend the youngest scion of House Pelagios, as well. No harm in making friends, Mako thinks.

Cass looks at him nervously, eyes darting from Mako to Aria and back again. “What are you cooking?”

“Probably rehydrating some chicken,” Aria fills in. “Throwing it in with some noodles, or whatever. Nothing fancy, just dorm food.”

“I’ve never had chicken,” Cass says. “Or chicken substitute.”

“What the fuck do you eat on Apostalos?” Mako asks.

“Mako…” Aria warns quietly, the way she always does when she knows he’s about to say something dumb that may or may not get him into serious trouble. But Mako is already off to the races, mouth going a million miles faster than his brain could catch up. Metaphorically, of course.

“Seafood, mostly.”

“Aren’t you guys supposed to be descended from fish?” Mako continues. “That’s kind of fucked up, isn’t it? Some sort of cannibal— _ow_ , Aria!” He rubs where she had just elbowed him in the side, successfully interrupting him.

“It’s not very good chicken,” Aria says, steering the conversation back on the appropriate track, sensing that Mako had _already_ managed to rile Cass up. “But it’s better than…well, I mean…no offense to Apostolisian food, but…”

“No,” Cass says, shaking their head. “This stuff is shit.”

“Agreed!” Mako perks up. “Come on, lets blow this popsicle stand.”

“Mako, we just got here,” Aria chides in her usual manner. “Let’s sit and chat for a bit. There’s always dessert to get. Maybe it’ll be Apostolisian, too”

Then Mako puts two and two together, like sparking two wires to fire up a machine, and he asks, “Did they make this because of you?”

“Uh…” Cass looks down at their plate of soggy spaghetti, as if to consider Mako’s suggestion. “I’m not sure.”

“They probably did. They did the same thing when Maxine got here, too. Remember that?”

“Love me some spicy food,” Lazer Ted pipes up.

“Maxine?” Cass echoes. “Like, Maxine Ming?”

“Yeah!” Aria grins. “You’ve met her? Of course you have, you’re both royalty, principalities and all that—”

“Actually,” they interrupt, “she lives down the hall from me.”

“Have you met Binks yet?” Aria asks.

“The cranium rat?” Cass laughs. It’s a deep, rich noise that makes Mako blush. Which, why was he blushing at his new friend’s cute laugh? “Yes, I met it earlier today. Nasty little thing, isn’t it?”

“I think he’s cute!” Mako argues, smiling, falling into an easy conversational rhythm. “You just need him to warm up to you, have you tried scratching his brain?”

“That sounds disgusting.”

“You’re literally a fish!”

“That has nothing to do with…What kind of an argument is that?” Cass fires back, easily taking the bait. Which, Mako giggles, the bait. Fish jokes.

“We aren’t even—we’re _descended_ from fish, we’re not _actually_ fish,” they continue. “Do you even know anything about Apostolisian history?”

“Of course I don’t,” Mako says breezily.

And just like that, he’s made friends with Apostolisian royalty. Cute Apostolisian royalty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enter mako! i have posted two chapters at once so the first one isn't a total bore!

**Author's Note:**

> come talk to me on twitter (@pyrrhum) or tumblr (also pyrrhum) because i am lonely in friends at the table hell!


End file.
